


Here We Are

by FallenChaos



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenChaos/pseuds/FallenChaos
Summary: Dom and Brian are headed home when they are injured in an accident.





	1. Chapter 1

“Glad that’s behind us now,” Dominic tightened his grip on the steering wheel of his Charger, “I hated being in Rollo’s debt. Carting stuff around for him can get you in trouble with people like… well people like you.” he shot a wry glance at the passenger seat.  
“You still not gonna tell me about the history between you two?”  
Dominic turned his eyes to the setting horizon and avoided the gaze of his passenger.   
“Nice of you to join me. You didn’t have to come you know.”  
“Figured someone ought to keep an eye on you,” said Brian. “Rollo has dirt on you, doesn’t he?”  
“Ask me that again and I’ll turn this car around and leave you at that old shack we just passed.” Dom meant it as a joke, but the words came out harshly.

“Well maybe I’d just catch a ride with that truck,” Brian gestured at the darkening horizon where a large, red vehicle, the lone spot of color against a gray sky, approached. A chilly silence filled the interior of Dom’s car as both occupants came to the same realization. The truck was barrelling towards them on the wrong side of the road.   
Dominic swerved, but the collision couldn’t be avoided.

The crunch and screech of metal was overly familiar to them both. Their world turned about, swirled around, and exploded in a blast of plastic and earth.  
Afterwards, shards of glass littered the ground and reflected the moon like a constellation of shattered stars. The Charger came to rest on its side. There was no movement within.  
The truck driver exited his intact vehicle and strode to the broken one with a crowbar in hand. 

The noise of the search startled the driver of the Charger out of stupor. Nothing felt right. Even the vision before him made no sense. The rocky ground swirled with the shattered car parts and darkening sky. His head throbbed as blood rushed to his head. The noise continued. Someone was - what were they doing? Then it came to him and Dominic Torretto wanted a weapon. This must have been deliberate. 

Whatever happened next Dominic did not want to face it while restrained in the car. The man outside banged his metal tool on the remains of the Charger and cursed. Dom struggled against his seatbelt, battled the steering wheel, and wondered if the man outside would hear him and come swinging. Instead, the profanities grew fainter as the truck driver stomped away, kicking rocks as he left. Shortly after, tires squealed and a motor rumbled away.

The man’s banging must have muffled his own noises, thought Dominic.  
Finally, he succeeded in releasing himself. He slid to rest against the driver-side window and the ceiling of the car. His sore body protested as he pulled himself into a crouch and turned his attention to the passenger seat.

A chill slithered along Dom’s spine as he looked at Brian's twisted, still body. His face was gone, a bloody mess left in its place. For endless seconds Dominic refused to believe his eyes. He stretched his hands towards the body as tears watered his vision. Sharp pain blossomed in his right shoulder and took his breath away. He reached across his own body with his left hand and shook the one beside him.  
Bubbles appeared where Brian’s mouth should have been. He coughed and brought a hand to the bubbles, wiped them and the blood away so he could pant freely.  
As Dominic’s heart returned to a normal rhythm, as he realized he could hear more than just his pulse beating in his ear, and he released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Dom noticed that Brian had a deep gash in his scalp which had bled profusely onto his face causing the mistake.

He gritted his teeth and set himself to the painful task of freeing his friend.  
Brian landed on Dom’s lap and moaned as he rolled his head from side to side. The sharp tang of blood filled Dom’s nostrils.  
Dominic reached for his cell phone then winced at the pain. His right hand worked, but the shoulder didn’t. They would have to get out of the car so he would have room to pull his phone out with his opposite hand. If they could get through the windshield they could just step outside. He pushed his palm against the glass. The windshield had suffered three long cracks during the collision, but it did not budge for Dominic.   
He sighed as he thought about the glass breaker that his sister had insisted on giving him, just in case. But he had dumped it in the trunk along with the other supplies she always packed for him.  
He wrapped both hands around Brian’s torso and maneuvered him as he prepared to try to kick out the windshield. The steady heartbeat underneath warm skin and firm ribs reassured Dominic. They both survived the crash. He would get them out of this and they would be fine.  
He drew in a breath and aimed his foot toward the windshield.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Happy reading.

The windshield made a cracking noise and more lines ran across the surface, but it stayed in place. The impact vibrated through Dominic's bones and made his muscles quake. He kicked again and again until his hip ached and his knee protested. Finally, the windshield gave though it did not shatter like the weaker door windows. It allowed Dom to pass through its jagged remains, pulling Brian's stumbling, pliant form with him. They stepped into the rocky, overgrown area which llined the country road they had taken.  
On his first step outside of the car, Dom's ankle threatened to give, but he steadied himself against the body of the vehicle and panted into the evening sky.  
Brian sank toward the surrounding weeds holding his hands against his head. Dom used the hand of his uninjured arm to withdraw the cell phone from his right pocket. The small sharp light revealed in LED glory the mess that was Brian's scalp. They needed help for that one. He dialed 911.  
No signal. He walked around the car aiming his phone this way and that way. Nothing.  
"Brian, where's your phone?"  
His friend looked back in confusion. He patted his pants pockets. "I don't know. I don't know." Brian's fingers returned to his head. His hands were becoming covered with blood and red drops fell onto his jacket sleeves. "I don't know."  
"Don't worry about it," Dom carefully controlled his voice. "Everything's going to be alright. We've gotten through worse before."  
Dom looked at his screen. Why had he allowed the battery to get down to 13%? He used a few precious minutes to search for Brian's cellphone in the waning light. His light barely penetrated the thick brush that surrounded them. It was hopeless. The phone might have fallen out during the crash, slid into any nook of the car, or heck maybe Brian had forgotten it back at the dropoff. He returned to the wreck where Brian waited near the trunk.  
The trunk - Dom's sister had forced him to take a first aid kit. She'd loaded it down so heavily, maybe there was a chance it was still there. After coaxing Brian to the side, he began to search the trunk.  
It wasn't there. But some of the rags he stored had been crushed beneath the jug of water for the radiator. He grabbed a clean one. And Dominic, who had never been an enthusiastic cleaner, compulsively wet the rag and dragged it over Brian's skin again and again until his face was recognizable. He squinted and strained to look for another clean rag, but could not find one. So he balled the bloody one in his fist and held it firmly to the gash in Brian's scalp.  
"Where are we?"  
"Pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Not far from where that truck hit us. We might still be close to the road."  
"But Dom, why are we here?"  
Dom peered at him in the darkness. He held the rag more tightly until Brian winced.  
"We dropped off the package at Rollo's. Somehow we made it out of that slum without any problems. And we were headed home when a truck in front of us was driving on the wrong side of the road," he found the words hard to speak. "It hit us, Brian. I tried to - but there wasn't-" he swallowed.  
"So we were in an accident," said Brian.  
"It wasn't an accident. The driver came to the car. He was looking for something; probably Rollo's package. That guy never could stay out of trouble."  
"Well, I guess they got what they wanted."  
"No, Brian. He must have wanted the package we dropped off at Rollo's,  
"Okay, so since it's gone, he left."  
"Yeah, yeah that's right." Dom hoped Brian did not notice the waver in his voice. How bad was Brian's injury? The men stood against the smashed-in, open, and empty trunk. Dom held his injured arm with his other hand.  
"Remember when I got this thing? Didn't even like it all that much…"  
"Well that's probably a good thing." Brian made a noise that might have been an attempt at laughter.  
"But you liked the color."  
Not so long ago, when Dom was looking for a new vehicle, they'd gone to the neighbor's garage to look at it together. Brian had run his fingers along the paint. When they were about to leave, his eyes kept returning to where it was parked and Dom knew which car he would purchase.  
The men fell silent.  
His sore body welcomed the chance to lean against the car. He could have taken several moments of respite, but Dominic did not like the glazed appearance which came across Brian's eyes. He knew they couldn't simply stand here for hours. The way Brian weaved in place left Dom wondering if he should be standing at all. The car wasn't luxurious, but it would have been a safe shelter overnight if it had simply broken down. The leather seats were more inviting than the rocky, brush-covered ground around could probably find some clear ground to rest upon, but in the diminishing light they would be lucky not to break an ankle on the way.  
"I bet now you wish I had left you at that..." The solution struck Dominic. "That farmhouse. We can spend the night there if we have to." He looked down at his phone and dialed again. Still nothing. But even if he couldn't bring help, he could at least bring them to shelter.  
" 'Kay." Brian answered.  
They headed back in the direction from where they had come. Brian stumbled and might have fallen but for Dominic's intervention. He kept his friend to his good side after that, but Brian regained his footing after a few more wobbly steps.  
Dom forced himself to keep his head forward and not look back at the Charger. Had he made the right decision this time? He had certainly made a bad one when he chose to partner with Rollo in his shady business.  
As they picked their way, Dom finally had to admit that Brian deserved an answer to his earlier questions. So he told him everything. Why they were in this mess. How foolish he had been to engage in business with a guy like Rollo. That he hadn't been able to think of any way to shake himself loose of the guy except for that one last delivery. And now they were here because he hadn't been a good judge of character.  
His friend's silhouette was silent against in the near-night sky. But he knew Brian would forgive him and much sooner than he should. Brian always forgave him.  
They walked until a sheen of sweat covered them; then they trudged on. The ground lay as though in wait for them to slip. Rocks battered their sneaker-clad feet. Nettles scraped across their jeans. Yet there was nowhere to stop and rest so on they went. Finally, they reached their destination.  
The dilapidated farmhouse towered over them. With its rotted siding and jagged roof, the place looked more like a haunted house from which to escape than a shelter from the elements. Broken glass littered the front yard uncomfortably reminiscent of the car crash. An icy breeze drove them toward the front door.  
Dominic tried the knob with his left hand. It was either locked or neglected past functionality.  
Not this again. His ankle throbbed at the thought of trying to kick it in. He held his injured arm as he considered their options.  
Brian moved in front of Dom. He aimed his credit card at the slit between the door and the frame. He fumbled a couple of times before sliding it true and fiddling with the remains of the locking mechanism. After a loud click the door creaked open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I appreciate your comments.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading.

A dark interior awaited them.  
Brian lurched through first, alarming Dominic who followed behind. Reluctantly, he used his cellphone to light their way. It revealed the shabby remnants of living room furniture, a doorway to what had probably been a kitchen and a skeletal stairwell.  
The men looked at each other in an unspoken agreement; neither would chance the rickety, old staircase.  
They drifted to the southside window through which a sliver of moonlight fell.

“Let’s move the sofa to the window,” said Dom.  
“But you’ve only got one good arm.”  
“Well you have to keep your hand on that rag, so you only have one hand too. It’ll work.”  
The sofa groaned and creaked under their ministrations. They panted into the musty air when it was finished. Neither knew what to say for several moments. Dom bent over the sofa-arm closet to him, putting his weight on his good hand. He forced down a startled reaction when Brian appeared out of the darkness at his side and put his hand on the misshapen lump of his shoulder.

“We gotta do something about that.” 

The crash, his injury, the long, rocky journey from the wreck to this sorry excuse of a house and the burst of energy required for the small renovation had taken more from Dom than he would have expected. He didn’t resist when Brian guided him to sit.

“There’s this technique you can do to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place. Well there’s a couple really, but this way I know is better than pulling on a doorknob ”

Brian encouraged Dom to tuck the injured arm against his body.

“Just sit up straight, relax your shoulders,” said Brian. “Now don’t tense up. Let me support your elbow like this. You’re doing good.”  
“Have you ever done this before?  
“I know how to do it,” Brian insisted, a little too emphatically,“Just relax.”  
Dominic’s skin tingled as Brian’s fingers plunged into his shoulder muscles. A firm steady massage kneaded Dom’s shoulder and warmed his skin.  
“You’ve never done this before.”  
Brian’s breath rushed out in a sigh that stroked Dom’s cheek. He continued massaging for several minutes until he said,  
“Okay. Try and make your shoulder blades come together.”  
“Like...this,” Dom hissed at the movement.  
“Yeah, good.” Brian gently thumbed the misplaced shoulder bone, trying to nudge it back into place.

“You're not relaxing.” 

“Well I'm sorry,” snapped Dom, “This place doesn't really put me in the mood.” 

“Okay, Let me try again. I can get it right.”

Pain and anger flushed through Dominic. He didn’t want to do it again, he wanted it fixed now.

He pushed Brian’s hands off of him then regretted it immediately. Why had he done that? Only an hour ago he’d been worried about how unsteady Brian was. But Brian would forgive this too.

“Brian?” His friend stood still and stared blankly for several moments. Then he fell over thunking as he hit the hardwood floor.

Dom reached out to catch him and gasped from the pain of his injured arm.

A rustling noise made Dom’s skin crawl. Brian’s limbs jerked against the floor tangling his clothes. The convulsions ended before Dominic could react. “Brian?” Ludicrously, he softened his voice as though he feared to wake the man at his feet.  
He wanted to do something useful, but he couldn’t leave Brian alone, could he? But what good was just crouching there watching?  
Brian’s breaths came out in rough pants. He moaned faintly. The rag had tumbled away and the gash spilled his blood on the floor. Dominic’s throat tightened. Had he caused this? Clumsy fingers dropped the cellphone. His sore joints protested as he awkwardly lowered himself to the floor to follow the display light. The pads of his fingers slid through the thick dust on the hardwood floor grasping for the phone. Let there be a signal. The screen displayed 10% battery and no reception. He shoved it into his pocket.

Brian had been so worried about his stupid arm. The poor guy had cracked his head open and Dom had allowed him to put all that effort into his little wound. Dominic moved his head so that the wound wasn’t on the floor. What else could he do with one arm? But there had to be something he could do. Grabbing the couch for leverage, he pulled himself up.  
This old house could still provide shelter, maybe it also had supplies for them. He situated himself beside a wall and felt his way along the cracking, peeling wallpaper. The rasp of his sliding fingers was the only sound that accompanied him aside from the soft thump when his knees connected with pieces of furniture. Before long he met an empty door frame. His shoes squeaked against what might have been a tile floor. A porcelain sink stood in his way. Dom rushed to search the cabinets for a first aid kit. He found only cobwebs and the husks of dead insects. His injured arm ached to be cradled in his good hand, but he ignored the pain and searched again more slowly and considered a third attempt. But he had to admit the truth to himself. Another search would just waste time. The minutes away from Brian gnawed at him.

His feet began a path back to the sofa when a thought occurred to him. Hadn’t they seen an entrance to a kitchen?  
With only a bit of stumbling, he felt his way to the kitchen and commenced a methodical inspection of every cabinet and drawer and cupboard. There was no first aid kit to be found. He couldn’t find so much as a single bandaid.

One door remained, he’d first taken for a closet, but quickly realized it was a back door. Now that his other options had proven fruitless Dominic placed his hand on the knob.  
Brian’s words returned to him. He had said something about using on a door knob to pop his shoulder back in place.  
Dom leaned in and wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the knob. His arm protested against the movement but what choice did he have? No one was coming to save them. He took his phone out and read the percentage. His fingers tightened on the screen; his jaw clenched. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, blew his breath out of his nostrils and leaned back. His injured arm pulled taught. Something in his shoulder shifted crackled. It didn’t feel good, but maybe it was progress. He hadn’t accomplished anything at all this night so he kept at it. Minutes ticked by and he continued to lean backward with his hand on the doorknob.  
Finally, a wet pop both sounded in his ears and vibrated through his chest. He sighed. Then he rolled his shoulder around and around forward and back. It still twinged quite a bit, but most of the pain had gone. He turned around and paused. His instinct was to go back and celebrate with Brian, but then what? Hey my shoulder is back in place. We still got no way out of here and your brains are spilling on the floor, but at least I feel better.  
Dominic opened the door and walked outside.

The air held a chill of night. The cold seeped through Dominic’s light clothing. Darkness had fallen like a velvet blanket, but the moon bathed the area with an ethereal glow.  
Dom thumbed the screen on and walked back and forth in the overgrown backyard, narrowly avoided tripping over an abandoned fishing rod that lay in the weeds. Signal reception flickered on one step he took, but as he rushed back to the spot it had no signal just like the rest of the yard. He walked back to the porch to consider his options. He could return to his friend’s side and helplessly watch the progression of his injury. Or he might try to climb the dilapidated staircase and search the upstairs. If he were very careful to avoid the holes, and if the rotted-looking stairs held himt...  
His weight made the porch steps groan. The light he would need to guide him would cost energy, but if it helped Brian it would be worth the price. Unless the reception up there was no good either. On top of it all, he might run out of battery to shine his way back down the stairs.

None of it was any good. Dominic wished that the man from the truck had hung around. He wanted to punch someone, even with his bad shoulder. Having someone else to blame would be worth the pain.

A sigh heaved from his chest. He crouched to sit on the porch and nearly landed on top of a rusty metal toolbox. The hinges still opened smoothly like they’d been carefully oiled. Dominic chafed his hands together for warmth before plunging them in. The hammers, wrenches, and screw drivers that he expected to find were sparse, but a dedicated angler had carefully supplied bait and fishing lines and metal hooks which were tucked into plastic sleeves.  
The rusty tools surrounding them awakened wariness, but Dom knew he had found a possible solution.  
It wasn’t what he wanted, but it’s what he had.

In his rush to return to Brian’s side, Dominic stumbled on the uneven wooden slats. His palms slapped the boards and the supplies scattered. Splinters scratched at his fingers as he scrambled to recover them. He cursed himself and groped toward the clinking sound of metal against wood. His fingers bumped one of the plastic sleeves causing it and the hook within to fall between two slats. He was more careful as he gathered the remaining hook and the fishing line and padded his way back to the living room.

“Dom,” Brian’s thin voice called. “Dom?” His voice held an unmistakable note of desperation. 

“Brian, I’m here.”

“Where are we?” A slice of moonlight reflected the earnestness in Brian’s eyes, “Why are we here?”

Dom’s breath caught in his throat. Had he really thought he could fix everything with some impromptu DIY tools? He clenched his jaw.

“Brian, do you remember how you tried to help me with my arm? I figured out a way to help you." Dom took a breath, realizing his plan sounded crazy even in his thoughts, "I found some fishing line and a hook. And I can sew the gash in your head. Don’t worry, it’s just like stitching a leather seat. Leather is flesh, right? But I can’t do this blind. You’ll have to hold the phone for me.” 

Brian made a noise between a sigh and a groan.

Dominic guided Brian into the position he needed. “Keep your head still now, okay?”

Dom was ready for the first shudder as he pushed the hook through Brian’s skin. Blood transferred to his fingers and the fishing line darkened as he pulled it through the other side of the wound. Stitch by painstaking stitch, Dom finally closed the last of the laceration just as the phone blinked out.

He felt his way down to Brian’s chin and lifted it. “It’s finished.”

Brian’s cheek rubbed against Dom’s hand as he nodded. His breath tickled Dom’s forearm.

“I’m so tired.”

“Me too. We’ll figure something out in the morning. Let’s just spend the night here.

They sat on the dusty couch and silently negotiated sleeping space. Sliding limbs and weary torsos finally rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Share your thoughts and thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left a comment. Happy reading.

Sunlight kissed their skin as Dominic's eyes opened to a bright morning. Brian's head lay against his shoulder, presenting Dom with a view of his handiwork. The stitches had held through the night, though they made a grizzly figure cutting through Brian's hair. The side of his head which had been painted crimson was now crusted with dried brown blood.  
Dom's shoulder creaked, sore like a bruise. His whole body ached and protested. He took a moment to breathe deeply and arrange his thoughts. Brian's breath tickled his chin. He had to get them out of this. Brian had been through so much. He needed to get them somewhere safe. They had few options, none of them good.  
"Wake up, Brian. It's time for us to get out of here." He shook him so gently it was more like a shudder. "Brian, open your eyes." The lack of response caused panic to begin to rise in Dom's throat, but he pushed it down and forced calm into his voice.  
He reached out and traced his fingers over the crusty stitches. His hand moved lower to turn Brian's face toward his.  
"Bri, come on. Please."  
Brian's chest rose and fell, sleep-slow.  
Dominic kept speaking to him and tapped his shoulder until he finally moaned in response.  
Dom's voice was shaky with relief as he announced,"Time to wake up."  
"Where are-" Brian cut himself off and dragged a hand across his eyes.  
"How do you feel? Do you remember anything?"  
"That was crazy, wasn't it?" Brian poked at his stitches, making himself wince."The way that truck hit us. Man, I thought we were gonners."  
"I was afraid too, Dom replied quietly, "especially after."  
"Then it was...Sorry, Dom, I think I forgot to ask: are you hurt?"  
Dom stared at him, uncomfortable with the thought of complaining to a man whose head had been split open. "I'm fine.  
"What should we do now? Do you want to go back to the wreck?" Brian asked with a hoarse voice.  
Dom gave another sigh. Brian seemed himself again.  
"You don't want to go back." It wasn't a question. Brian knew Dom. "So, are we gonna wait for someone to rescue us here?"  
Dominic clenched his hand around his powerless phone.  
"No one is coming for us."  
"It's not that bad here, though. Maybe someone might…"  
"What's keeping us here?"  
"Not the ambiance or the food, that's for sure."  
"What? You mean you don't want to chow down on a plank of rotted wood?"  
"I'm good," was Brian's dry answer.  
"How about if I sprinkle some maggots on it for you?"  
"I'd tear it up if you gave me a cup of water to wash it down with." His voice was hoarse.  
"Yeah. I'm thirsty too." An ominous creak shuddered through the air as Dominic rose from the couch.  
"You leaving me again?" Brian forced a lighthearted tone, but Dom inwardly winced. He half-pulled, half-lifted Brian to his feet.  
The house looked even more dismal in the light. The cracked ceiling had collapsed in several places. The walls were streaked with mold. A few, rusty nails jutted from the floorboards. Dominic had been lucky to have avoided them.  
The kitchen faucet was dry. The bathroom sink gurgled tantalizingly, but produced nothing.  
"Should we go back to the crash or try to find civilization somewhere?"  
"Maybe we should just stay here."  
Dom looked over to the other side of the room where Brian stood.  
"I feel like in the movies they always say to stay in the same spot. Like it's easier for people to find you." Brian looked away and glanced back as though to gauge Dom's view of his opinion.  
The dark tone of Brian's dried blood cast an even paler shade to his injury-induced pallor. It made his ghostly skin far lighter than the once white walls. Brian shuffled across the living room completing the zombie impression. Something melted in Dom's chest and he threw an arm across his shoulders. Together they sought, but found no water.  
"The next town isn't that far." Dom explained the natural landmarks that he could use to navigate to the small city.  
"It will be a shorter distance than if we drove," said Dom optimistically.  
"Sure, whatever you think."  
Dominic refused to question Brian's sudden acquiescence.  
There wasn't much to pack, just a few things from the toolbox. Then, they simply set out, leaving the farmhouse behind. Brian turned the grizzly side of his head to Dominic as he gazed back before continuing forward. Dom gingerly led the way. To distract himself from the throb in his ankle he kept up a cheerful banter with Brian until they found themselves clearing their throats a little too often.  
Dominic continually checked the landmarks against their progress though woods and the trees and bushes, in the tall grass and over dried,caked mud flats. Brian clenched his jaw as the terrain lapsed behind them and twilight creeped across the horizon.  
"Did you hear that?"  
Dom paused and turned to Brian.  
"No. What did it sound like?"  
"A big pop. Kind of like a gunshot."  
Dom stood still and strained to hear. Dry leaves crackled in a dry breeze. Gnats buzzed around their heads. The moist tang of incoming rain reached his nostrils. They should probably hurry to the town and not worry about mystery noises.  
"There's nothing. It's probably just your headache."  
"You think I'm making this up."  
"No, just that-"  
"Just that I can't be trusted with even something as simple as this."  
A sound like a creaking staircase filled the air. The noise grew louder and seemed to stalk them.  
Anger flared in Dom as he realized that he couldn't identify the origin of the threat thus couldn't be sure where to run away from it. It seemed foolish to remain in the open so they scrambled to the side, towards a crowd of bushes. Dry branches tore at their clothing and skin as they took cover among the shrubs. The popping grew into a deafening series of cracks and snaps. A great, dark shadow dashed through the air before them. The ground shook beneath their palms and knees as a behemoth landed neary.  
Brian and Dom's breaths came out in short, loud huffs as they rose on wobbly legs. They exchanged silent gazes before picking their way toward the fallen tree.  
Brian looked back the way they came, the way that led to the farmhouse. "The farm doesn't look so bad now, does it?"  
"Those walls might have caved in at any time."  
Dom held his breath as he pulled a splintered stick from his flesh. The hole left behind oozed thin, red ribbons. The sharp pain was small enough to ignore. He moved back towards the direction he thought they needed to face.  
"Are you tired, Dom?" Brian's voice was so tiny he nearly missed the suggestion.  
"Let's rest here." Dominic discreetly hovered his hands in the air near Brian's waist just in case, as Brian eased himself down upon the fallen tree.  
Dominic snapped a couple of protruding branches to clear a place for himself and sat beside his friend. "We're not far off now."  
"Will we get there before dark?  
Dom did not reply.  
"We should go back. I want to go back.  
"It's too late for that, Brian.  
"You don't even know where we're going," he said in a voice that Dom didn't recognize.  
"I'm going to get us out of here," Dom said aloud. Silently, "I have to." He turned his back to Brian and glared at the trees before him. His jaw clenched against the doubt that began to creep up his spine. He wasn't much of a woodsman. Navigating through wilderness wasn't the same as finding his way in an unfamiliar city. Still, he had spent decades honing his sense of direction. This would be another chance to prove it. He sat long enough for his jaw to feel sore, but not nearly long enough for his body to feel rested. He rose and stepped toward the place he knew the town should be.  
"Time to go," Dom announced. When he decided it was time Then he pushed away from the tree wordlessly, trusting that Brian would follow.  
He knew almost immediately that he was wrong. "Brian," he didn't bother to soften his voice. "Let's go."  
Brian continued to sit and stared at the ground. His breath came out in noisy pants that Dom heard across the clearing. Eventually, he lifted his gaze. With his eyes carefully avoiding Dom's, Brian rose and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay healthy, everyone.  
Since many of you have more time on your hands, please consider leaving a review.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story, you may enjoy my other FF h/c fic “Tell me.”   
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638768


End file.
